The Lonely
by Resluver1912
Summary: Feliciano was alone. Everyone had left him. Kiku was ashamed, Ludwig was busy, Lovino hated him. No one cared about him, so what's keeping him here? He only has The Lonely for company. Warning: Character death, suicide, etc. Much better than what summary shows
1. Chapter 1

** Hey guys, this is actually a pretty serious fic here. (despite my awful writing abilities) There is actually a reason for me writing this. This is kinda sorta a song-fic but not really. Like I based it on (an amazing) song and lyrics will be thrown in it but idk.**

**This story contains self-harm, depression, and suicide. If you are uncomfortable with these subjects, I suggest you go to a different fic now.**

**The song I based it on is "The Lonely" by Christina Perri. (search it up in another tab and listen to it as you read it)**

**Hetalia as not mine. Nor will it ever be. -cries-**

**The song used isn't mine either.**

–

Feliciano stared up at his ceiling as he listened to the rain pitter patter against the roof. He was lying in his bed; unable to sleep. This was a regular occurrence at this point. He looked at his clock and saw it was 2 in the morning. He stared at it for a moment or two, wishing for the time to faster, but for what? He had nothing to look forward to. No one to see. When they day comes, it will just be more time passed of him in his house...alone.

World War 2 had ended more than a year ago. While everyone was happy about it; he was not. Surely at first he was, hell, he celebrated for a week at the end of the horrendous war. Of course Ludwig and Kiku weren't seeing as the axis had lost and they had to pay for a lot of the damages caused in Europe, but everything was at peace, for the most part. But as months went by, the 2 nations had slowly distanced themselves from the Italian. He didn't notice it was happening, not for the longest time. Not until he realized he was completely alone.

It started with Kiku, he had felt so ashamed with the loss that he hid out of sight from everyone. Even when Feliciano tried approaching him to comfort him, he threatened to kill him. Ludwig had told him it was only natural for a nation to feel such a way after a losing a war where they gave their all. Especially with a nation like Japan, where honor was a key thing in everything they did. He had to respect the Japanese man for that; he truly did give his all. But even after he came out of hiding, he still kept himself distant from his former allies. He would talk to them occasionally, merely out of politeness if anything. But soon, he had cut all connection with them.

Next it was Ludwig. He had stuck with the Italian for awhile after the war. Feliciano had felt really close to the German, they were best friends. Or atleast, that's what he thought. When they lost the war in Europe, Ludwig was furious. Especially since Feliciano had not only surrendered but actually worked with the Allies. Feliciano had apologized many times after and tried helping his German friend as much as he could after the war. He was always at Ludwig's house, much like during the war, but Ludwig had actually been okay with it. He wasn't going to lie. He had loved Ludwig. He couldn't tell him though since Ludwig still held to some ideals that his boss had brainwashed into his mind. So for the sake of his safety and their friendship, he kept silent about his feelings. But eventually, much like Kiku, Ludwig began to drift away from the Italian. What was once frequent trips turned far and few due to work. Ludwig still had made attempts to talk to Feliciano, but they were always short conversations. Nothing like the ones they would have during the war after training, when they would sit under a tree eating pasta and wurst. Soon any kind of conversations they had were gone, leaving only a few nods of acknowledgment as they passed in the halls of meetings. Last month was when Ludwig stopped even that much. And it tore at Feliciano's heart like a dagger. What he had wanted with Ludwig couldn't happen due to his ideals, that already hurt. But not talking to him at all, not even a nod, broke him. That was when his depression hit him. That was when he started cutting. He held his wrist, remembering the crimson zig zags that decorated his fragile arms.

He stood by the window, watching as the rain that hit the window slid down into streams. Much like his tears those nights when Ludwig had first started ignoring him. When he realized his love would never be returned. It brought back painful memories of when he was a child, the nights he would sit by the window of Austria's house, crying, waiting for his first love to return. When Holy Roman Empire left for battle, he had promised Feliciano he would come back. So every night after that, he sat there and waited. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. He would sometimes forget to blink. He had cried endlessly waiting. Even after he was told that he would never return, he kept on hoping that somehow, someway, he was alive. Even during his adulthood, he would reflect back to the words he had told him. The promise he made. The kiss he left him with. He took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. But its no use, the tears fall despite his best efforts.

Last but not least, the worst part of it all; his own brother, Lovino. Left him. They never had the best relationship, but they were still brothers. When worse had come to worse, Lovino was there for him. When they unified as one Italy and they lived together, Lovino would help Feliciano get through his far and few crying fits. When it stormed and lightning struck, he was there to hold Feliciano. Even during and after the war when he felt sad about Ludwig, despite Lovino's hatred for the man, he comforted him and gave him advice. But alas, like everyone else, he left. He grown tired of helping his younger brother, he had his own problems. Feliciano understood that. But it didn't make it hurt any less. When Lovino grew distant, he wasn't subtle about like Kiku or apologetic like Ludwig. No, far from it. He was nasty to Feliciano. Every time he tried speaking to his older brother, he would just look his way and glare, or say something mean. At one meeting, he had actually had Feliciano in a corner, yelling at him on how he hated him and he wished he was dead. Feliciano would have broken down crying right there if hadn't been for Antonio, who dragged away the angry Italian from the frightened younger one. Then last week, Lovino had made it clear to everyone that he loathed the idea of even being called Italy, knowing it meant he was connected to Feliciano. He left the meeting early that day. He hasn't left the house since.

Tears were streaming his face now, soaking his shirt. He fell to a ball beside the window and began bawling. His hands pulled at his hair in frustration, he kicked the wall wishing to lash out at something, _someone._ His eyes burned from the excessive tears. His face having almost permanent trails from endless nights of him crying himself to sleep. He rolled over and punched the ground, screaming with all his might. No one would hear him.

_No one would care._

He was a shell of the person he used to know well. He was no longer the happy Italian that would greet everyone, that would offer to make everyone pasta or pizza. He hasn't even eaten pasta in months. He felt so empty. As though there was nothing left in him to even get out of bed. He wouldn't look at others the same anymore. He doubt he even had a shine in his eyes. They had dulled long ago along with his heart. He got up slowly and made his way back to bed.

_The silent sound of loneliness wanted to follow me to bed._

He went to the drawer of his night desk, looking for something. Once he found it, he sat back down on his bed and pulled up his sleeve. He looked at the blade that he held, staring at it. As though it held the answers to his problems. In a sick, morbid way; it did. He closed his eyes as the blade glided across his skin. He didn't need to look, he felt the crimson liquid spill over his arm, and onto the floor. He continued that process covering every inch of his arms with the pain he felt in his heart. When he stopped to look at his work, he realized; it wasn't enough. He didn't want to feel the dull pain the blade brought him. It was never enough to match the pain in his heart. He'd rather not feel anything at all.

Coming to this epiphany, he stood up and stared at the ground. He was really going to do this. Why didn't he think of it sooner? He smiled, the first real smile in months. He was finally going to escape this pain.

_I'll let The Lonely in. The Lonely will be there with me._

He went into the middle of the room, and began dancing. He didn't know why, but the thought of finally being at peace overtook him. As he span around and danced, danced with The Lonely, he sang. A quiet lullaby.

_The Loneliness will stay with me...and will hold me until I finally fall asleep._

He ran, no, _skipped _outside into the rain. Singing as went to his final destination. He felt the rain soak and stream down his face.

_Or was it tears?_

His clothes were drenched, his hair soaked with the water that poured on him, as though God himself was crying for him.

_That can't be...God doesn't love me..._

He laughed at the thought. No one loved him. He continued to skip and dance even after he tripped several times, mud decorated his skin and clothes. Some of it sticking into his scars and open wounds. But he didn't care.

He stopped finally, looking out onto a cliff. He wasn't even sure how he knew there was one or how he knew how to get there but at this point, he was far from caring. He looked over it, seeing how far down it was.

He was really doing this.

He was going to be free.

_Broken pieces of _

He took a deep breath.

_A barely breathing story_

He closed his eyes. "Addio, Ludwig."

_Where there once was love_

"Ti amo."

_Now there's only me.._

A peaceful smile appears on his face. He jumps.

_and The Lonely._

He finally reached his happiness.

_Dancing slowly in an empty room,_

_Can the lonely take the place of you,_

_I sing myself a quiet lullaby,_

_Let you go and let The Lonely in,_

_To take my heart again..._

–

**Oki, I didn't know how to end it but hopefully its ok like that.**

**I made this not for the sick joy of making characters depressed or anything like that, but its a way for me to vent any feelings ive been having as of late and also a kind of way to speak out to anyone who may feel depressed or anything of the sort. Now I don't mean "Oh i'm sad boo hoo pay attention to me" because that actually annoys me. I'm mean if you are legitimately depressed and feel like you have no where to go. So if anyone who reads this feels that way, talk to someone. It doesn't matter who (hell, i'm all ears...or eyes...whatever the case may be) I've had 2 people in my life kill themselves. My grandfather. And my friend. Both hit me hard and I have had a past where I have attempted it several times. So I know how your feeling.**

**If you liked it please review, it'd be greatly appreciated~**


	2. Chapter 2

** (EDIT: I went back and edited this, changing up a few things written from before and added more to it. Hopefully its better than before but idk you be the judge.) Ok so ive been getting quite a few requests via PM to do a sequel for "The Lonely" so after awhile I thought about it. I'm still shaky about it since it was meant to be a one-shot. So if you dont like the idea of a sequel then dont read this chapter here. But if you do then I hope you enjoy~**

–

Antonio walked down the rode he was fairly familiar with. He held an umbrella in one arm and a basket of tomatoes in another. It had stormed terribly the night before, though it had stopped, he didn't want to risk it raining again and he not being protected from the angry sky. He whistled a Spanish tune as he started up a path that led to a lonely house up on a hill; Feliciano's house.

He had begun to notice sometime ago how distant the Italian had become from everyone which was completely out of character for him. At first he wanted to believe it was because of the massive stress put on him and the rest of the Axis due to the end of the second world war with the Axis on the defeated side, but as time went by he noticed it was more than that.

He knew very well what had happened within the Axis. Kiku had gone back into solitude as he did when he didn't want westerners near him. And Ludwig's boss began giving him much more work than before given that they were the reason for the start of the war so they had much to pay for, rebuild etc. So as expected, Feliciano was saddened by it. He thought it was only temporary, these things go away eventually, but as a year passed he noticed Feliciano was only getting worse. He was quiet during meetings and rarely said a word. His hair which was normally bouncy and shined had actually grown dull. Even his curl seemed to sag quite a bit. When he walked it wasn't his usual skip or a spring in his step but rather it was slow and appeared to take all of his energy. When he dressed it always appeared to be thrown on and messy compared to his normally pressed on clothes that seemed to gleam with style. Still he had hoped Feliciano would get over whatever ailment he was going through.

That was until last week anyway.

It was during break at a meeting here in Italy. Lovino had been furious with everything for awhile, and seeing his brother depressed angered him more. He strongly believed his normally cheerful brother was faking his depression to gain attention. Lovino had gotten sick of him always getting attention and later crying about small things. So during break while Antonio was mingling about, he heard rapid shouting in Italian that he knew very well belonged to Lovino and rushed to find what the commotion was only to find him shouting and cursing at a small figure in a corner. As he neared he came to realize that the small figure was Feliciano crouching, his knees pressed to his chest and his hands covering his ears as tears began forming in his eyes. Antonio quickly ran to them and grabbed Lovino by the wrist, only for the latter to whip his hand away and continue with his verbal abuse. After trying everything he could think of, he merely grabbed Lovino by the waist and hauled him over his shoulder and began walking away with Lovino kicking and screaming. He shot an apologetic look at Feliciano who merely collapsed on his side and hugged his knees to his chest, shoulders shaking violently as he sobbed. He looked so broken. Antonio wanted to go and comfort him, but he had to make sure Lovino would stay in his place and not cause more damage to his already damaged brother. Once the meeting began again, Feliciano returned and took his seat far from anyone as possible. Before they went down to business, Lovino stood up with anger flaring in his eyes. Antonio wanted to stop him from doing anything stupid but what he said shocked even him. He told everyone that he no longer wishes to be addressed as Italy Romano. In fact he _loathed_ it. He hated the thought of being connected to his "worthless" brother and would rather die than be connected to Feliciano. Antonio quickly looked at the sad Italian, who merely gathered his things and left out the doors. He watched everyone else in the room, all of which were stunned at the show that took place. Though no one made a move to go help the poor nation. Not even Antonio himself.

The guilt ate at him the more he thought about the incident. Which is why he finally decided that he would pay Feliciano a visit. He knocked on the door once he reached it and waited.

There was no response.

He knocked again, only louder.

Still nothing.

He quirked an eyebrow and began banging on the door. "Feliciano!"

Silence.

He tried the doorknob and found it to be open. He walked in and examined the place.

"Feliciano!" he called. Everything seemed to be in place. But it was silent. It was as though the house was empty of life. He went up the stairs and started looking in all the rooms.

"Feliciano! Brother Antonio is here!" he called once more. Still silence only answered him.

There was one room left and he went in, finding it to be his bedroom. But there was still no Feliciano. He rubbed his head baffled. He was about to leave when something caught his eye. The ground had red splatters on it. His eyes widened and he quickly went to it, going to touch it. He looked at it and sniffed it, he paled and his eyes widened. It was blood. But why was there blood on the floor? In Feliciano's room? He also noticed a lone razor blade resting next to the puddle of crimson. Realization smacked him like a cold mistress. He ran out of the house and began shouting.

"Feliciano!"

He ran out towards the woods that lied behind his house and continued to shout his name, begging and pleading for a response. He wasn't sure where he was going but he just kept running, looking, calling, searching for his little friend. During his trek, he had hit several branches which tore at his clothes and he has slipped down a muddy slope as a result from last nights storm. Mud decorated his clothes but he didn't care, he needed to find Feliciano. As he held himself from falling further, he got up and slowly made his way out of the slope and walked to what appeared to be a cliff. His heart stopped for a moment and he just stared at where the cliff ended. He had prayed to the Lord above him that he was just over-thinking things and nothing was as it had appeared. That Feliciano really wasn't depressed, that he wouldn't really harm himself, that he wouldn't actually jump off this cliff he stood on. He swallowed hard and slowly inched his way towards the edge. A million thoughts raced through his mind as he got on his knees and placed his hands firmly on the ground. He took a deep breath and dared to look over the cliff. As he looked, he felt his stomach churn and he wanted to run away.

There lied covered in mud, leaves and what appeared to be blood was Feliciano. The personification of Northern Italy. Lovino's brother, and Anontio's own friend. Denying any logic he had, he quickly made way to climb down the cliff, grasping branches and rocks that stuck, and jumping quite a bit to get down to where his friend lied lifelessly. Once down, he ran to Feliciano and gathered his limp body in his arms. He looked carefully as Feliciano's rosy cheeks were now paler than Gilbert's skin. His eyes were shut as blood trickled down from his temple, it traveled across his face curving as it went down the path underneath his left eye where no doubt streams of tears had once gone down. His hair was disheveled, leaves and mud sticking to it causing it to be matted. There was dirt all over him probably from his fall. Antonio's throat went dry and he felt himself snap. He began to shake Feliciano's body.

"Hey...Feli...Wake up now..I'm here with you..."

No response.

"C'mon...Feli..." he said again, his voice breaking.

Nothing.

His breathing became erratic and he shook Feliciano's body more violently.

"No...No..No Feliciano no you can't...I...Oh no Feli..." Tears spilled over as Antonio continued to cry for Feliciano in Spanish. He hugged the body that refused to respond to him and cried. "Oh Dio, Feli...Oh Feli...por que...por que Feli..." he looked at Feliciano's face and started crying more. "Open your eyes, Feliciano, por favor!" he pressed his face against Feliciano's neck. "Por favor Feli..."

During Antonio's violent crying fits, Feliciano's arm fell out of his embrace and he quickly grabbed it, noticing the long gashes that decorated his petite arm. They went in all sorts of different directions and took up his entire arm. He quickly checked the other arm and saw the same thing. He looked back at Feliciano's oddly peaceful face and brushed the hair that covered his closed eyes away. How was it that despite his awful condition, he managed to still have a peaceful expression? Antonio took a stuttering breath and put Feliciano down. He couldn't look at him anymore. It hurt him to much.

He stood up and pulled out his cellphone, dialing the one person he could think of.

"Guten Morgen." a tired German voice went through.

"Ludwig. This is Antonio. Come to Feliciano's house, fast." he demanded.

"Feliciano? Why?"

Without hesitating, he put in as much anger he could muster.

"Hes dead." then hung up.

–

Antonio sat in a chair in the living room as he waited for Ludwig to show up. He dared not to move Feliciano's body, not because it wasn't proper but because he just didn't have the heart to drag the body over here. He didn't want to be near it anymore. It made his heart hurt to see the nation he had known for so long no longer amongst the living. Almost on cue, there was a loud knock on the door and he went to answer it. There stood a panicked Ludwig, his uniform being thrown on, he hadn't even gelled back his hair.

"Where is he?"

Antonio was silent and led him to the back, through the woods until they went to the cliff that they held responsible for the death of their beloved. Antonio just stood there as Ludwig slowly went to look over the cliff, and immediately looked away as he saw the gruesome sight that lied below. His hand covered his mouth in shock and he just sat there, trying to comprehend what had taken place. Antonio stood there, his eyes blank. He himself still couldn't believe what happened. He watched as Ludwig's eyes turned red as he fought off the tears that threatened to fall. After a few moments, Antonio walked over to Ludwig, placing his hand on Ludwig's shoulder and squeezing. Ludwig slowly stood up and they made their way back to Feliciano's house.

Once inside, Ludwig crumbled to his knees and let out the tears that had tried to escape. He punched the floor and shouted in German, losing any bit of self control he had from the situation. Antonio couldn't help but sympathize. Ludwig had blamed himself for their Italian friend's demise, and he was right to. He and the others had left Feliciano to fend for his self, despite the promise Ludwig made to him.

After Ludwig calmed down, they both decided to investigate his room. As they went through the drawers and such, they found a sketchbook. Antonio opened it and found an odd drawing of Feliciano being held rather intimately by a dark figure. He labeled it on the side as "The Lonely." he stared at it and noted how close he made the figure to him. It's left arm was wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly while it had its other hand over Feliciano's mouth as what looked like tears streamed down his cheeks. Underneath it was captioned.

"_The Loneliness will stay with me, and hold me as I fall asleep."_

They looked at each other in pure horror; stunned silence surrounding them.

–

"We need to tell everyone. Let them know of what's happened. We need to make preparations." Ludwig said, finally. His eyes sticking to a loose nail on the floor.

They sat on the chairs in the living room. The silence of the entire house a large contrast to the usual loud, bustling noises only Feliciano was capable of, creating an eerie atmosphere for the two.

Antonio looked up and shook his head. "We need to tell Lovino first. He needs to know what happened to his brother."

Straightening his back he looked to Antonio. "Alright, then you tell him. I'll go ahead and start making phone calls." He then stood up, putting on his military baring, and headed for the door.

Just as he grabbed the handle, Antonio spoke, not even looking at the man. "Don't blame yourself, Ludwig. You didn't cause this. No one did. No one could have seen this coming."

After a moment, Ludwig turned and looked at Antonio with glassy eyes. "I am to blame. I could have been able to stop this." His voice lowered as his words became more strained. "But I didn't." with that, he left out the door and onto the lonely path. Leaving Antonio with the difficult task of telling Lovino.

–

Antonio paced back and forth in front of Lovino's house, contemplating on how to break the news to an already angry Lovino. He played through several different scenarios in his mind, all of which ending in tears.

_Of course it would, idiot! His brother is...is..._

Even now, he still wouldn't -_couldn't-_ accept that Feliciano was gone.

He stopped his pacing and looked up at the house before him. Lovino needed to know. No matter how much of a hot-head Lovino was, or how much he claimed to hate Feliciano, he still needed to know.

With that, Antonio walked to the door and knocked, waiting for a response. He would just go right out and tell him. He won't sugarcoat it or bullshit him.

Just before he went to knock again, the door opened revealing a half-asleep Lovino, who rubbed the sleep out of his eye while his other hand held the door open.

"Augh, what is it, Antonio? Don't you know how fucking early it is?" he yawned loudly, walking back inside, letting Antonio follow him in. "Since when were you one to wake up so early on your day off? Let alone come here, shit man ya coulda atleast called me, bastard." He grumbled angrily.

Antonio sighed and sat on the couch. "Lovino we need to talk. I think you should sit down." He patted the space next to him.

"Fuck, what did I do now?" he whined.

"Lovino, please." Antonio deadpanned, not wanting to waste time.

"Fine fine fine." He plopped himself next to Antonio and crossed his arms. "What is it?"

"It's about Feliciano..." Antonio began. "I'm really not sure how to-"

"What the fuck did that idiot do now?" Lovino groaned, annoyed already. "I'm so fucking done with everyone coming to me about that whiny brat. He's so fucking useless, I tell ya. Don't know why anyone even tries with him." he continued making rude remarks and belittling him, making Antonio's saint-like patience quickly decrease.

"Lovino, he's dead." He cut Lovino off mid-sentence.

"He...what?" Lovino asked clueless.

Antonio took a deep breath, willing himself to appear strong. "Feliciano..he..he's dead."

"No he's not." Lovino said flatly. Appearing unnerved.

"Lovino, I'm sorry...i really am.."

"What? No, he's not dead." Lovino tried a laugh. "he's just _not _dead, Antonio. He's not. It's just a filthy trick and you've fallen for it."

"Lovino..."

"No." Lovino stood up and walked back and forth, rubbing his head. "He's...He's not. He's completely alive, I tell ya. It's...it's not _possible _for him to be..." Antonio stood up and grabbed Lovino's arm. Lovino turned and looked into Antonio's eyes, panic settling in. "He can't be...r-right? It's impossible, right? Antonio?"

Antonio shook his head, fighting the pain in his chest. "I'm sorry Lovino.." he whispered.

Lovino's eyes went wide and his breath hitched. Memories of recent events with Feliciano flashing before him, the God awful way he treated him, the hurtful words he spat out in pure malice, Feliciano's frightened tear stained face, the blank expression he held as he left the meeting after Lovino's announcement. The guilt washing over him like a tidal wave. He rapidly began shaking his head. "No..no he can't..no that's not..just...no..no no no..." he rambled on repeating the same phrase as his eyes began to water his voice cracking with emotion wanting to break through. "No, he's not dead, Antonio! Stop fucking playing around!" he hit Antonio's chest and then hit him again as he threw curses at him.

Antonio merely wrapped his arms around the vulnerable boy, his eyes shut tight as he tried imagining just how Lovino felt.

"He's not dead, he's not fucking..." he buried his face into Antonio's chest as sobs racked his body, violently.

Antonio rubbed circles into Lovino's back as he tried comforting him, much like how he used to when he was a child. "Shh Shh it's ok Lovino its ok. Let it all out." Tears fell down his own cheeks when the pain from earlier hit him again full force. He openly wept with Lovino, holding him tightly as they both crumbled to the ground in a big, sobbing huddle.

They would make it through this. Somehow...

–

**(EDIT: still not to happy bout the edning but whatevs. Again, hoepfully better than it was before.)Yea yea yea I know it sucked but its late and im tired so I just ended it there. Theres ya'll sequal. If I feel like it when im not so tired, I'll go back and make a better ending but until then here it is for now. Please review~ **


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